i don't want to wake up (on my own anymore)
by fink.zydrate
Summary: Meeting Ryan Hardy was most definitely not what Mike thought it would be. Mike had been idolizing Ryan for such a long, long time that he had unintentionally built an imaginary perfect picture of him in his mind. He was, however, nothing like that.
1. sing me to sleep

1.

Meeting Ryan Hardy was most definitely not what Mike thought it would be. Mike had been idolizing Ryan for such a long, long time that he had unintentionally built an imaginary perfect picture of him in his mind. He was, however, nothing like that. To say Ryan Hardy was a mess would be an understatement. His breath reeked of vodka; he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, maybe more, but his eye, that's what Mike noticed first. They were glazed - mostly from the booze - but under that Weston could see how numb and lost he was, so fragile on the inside that Mike was scared that if he said the wrong word, he'd crack him. Ryan looked older than he was, so exhausted from the time he'd spent with his own demons and indulging his vices, believing alcohol would dull the pain.

But Mike didn't judge him for the person he had become. He decided he'd try and get closer to him, get to know him better and be his friend.

2.

After weeks of working together, Mike finally found out it was naive of him to think that Ryan wanted any friends. He was doing his job, nothing more. He made sure to make this clear to Mike, who made such great effort to make small talk, bring him coffee to work every morning and ask him if he wanted to go for a drink in the bar in the evenings. Nothing worked so eventually, Mike gave up. He didn't feel like being the fool anymore.

He talked to Ryan only about work, nothing personal. He brought him coffee, but made no small talk while giving it to him. Ryan noticed, but didn't say anything at first. Mike was okay with the awkward silences between them. Until Ryan asked him one evening if he wanted to go for a drink. Mike was so surprised, he probably looked like an idiot for a moment, but then he nodded his head vigorously and agreed before it was too late.

After the fifth or sixth shot of whiskey, Ryan was more talkative. He spoke about Claire and the little time they spent together, no details, though and Mike was thankful for that. He felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach that this woman knew Ryan so well without even trying. Mike read his book, wrote a thesis on it and spent so much time idolizing him. In theory, he knew everything about Ryan Hardy - he knew where he was born and raised, where he studied, how he got involved in the Joe Caroll case and how he eventually managed to figure him out before anybody else. He knew all that, but he didn't know Ryan Hardy - the man.

So he listened to him talking. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Mike drowned two or three shots more after that.

When Ryan offered to drive him to the motel some hours later, because Mike was obviously too wasted to drive, Mike could only nod. He dozed off in the car and was woken up by Ryan's hand shaking his shoulder lightly and whispering to him that they've arrived.

In Mike's room, Ryan helped him to his bed, taking off his shoes and tucking him in. He left a glass of water on his nightstand and quietly went out, turning the lights off on his way.

3.

A few weeks passed and Mike found himself wondering when spending his evenings with Ryan became a thing. They regularly went to the bar, didn't get drunk though, just spent time hanging out. Mike told Ryan about his family, how they didn't want this life for him, how they thought it would be better for him if he had become a lawyer, or a doctor instead. He told Ryan that he wasn't scared for his life, though. He just wanted the Joe Caroll case to be done, to be forgotten. Ryan smiled bitterly from behind the rim of his glass, filled with whiskey, and in this moment Mike realized how stupid and young he must sound to him.

Later, when they were driving back to the motel, Ryan asked Mike, "So what are you afraid of, Weston?"

He didn't look at the younger one, just turned off the ignition of the car and waited in silence for an answer. Mike was frozen for a moment, but then muttered, more to himself than to Ryan, "I'm afraid of not being taken seriously". Weston stole a quick glance at Ryan and saw the guilty look on his face. Then he continued, "I have been working for the FBI for some years now so why does everybody treat me like a boy who doesn't know what he's doing? Just because I am young doesn't mean that I am incompetent, you know?" He finished, knowing not to expect an answer. Ryan, who is always so composed and comfortable, looked out of place and tense. Mike got out of the car, breaking the tension between them.

The ride in the elevator was silent, then Ryan walked Mike to the door of his room and in a moment of boldness Mike asked Ryan if he wanted to come in. Just to hang out some more, just watch some TV or whatever, nothing serious. Ryan looked uncertain for a moment, like he was weighing his options, but after the moment of contemplation, he shrugged and said that he had nothing better to do anyways. Mike took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

4.

In all honesty Mike never expected to share a bed with Ryan Hardy of all people. The thought had never crossed his mind before these few weeks. When they started spending time together, he considered it - only once – but he was too ashamed of himself to think of it again. It was just as he thought it would be, though. Ryan was all sharp lines and rough hands. He was uneven breaths and the smell of whiskey on his breath against Mike's lips, his cheeks, his neck. His lips were chapped but always gentle.

After, Mike laid next to him, afraid to get closer because he had no idea what this meant to Ryan. He didn't even know what this meant to himself yet. Was Ryan freaking out? What if he was freaking out? Were they going to hang out again tomorrow or the day after that or will Ryan become distant like before?

As if he sensed his silent wondering, Ryan cleared his throat and told Mike he was going to go take a shower. Mike nodded, not trusting his voice in such a moment. He didn't want Ryan to hear how disappointed he was. He should've known that the older man wouldn't want to spend the night or hold his hand or something as cheesy as that. They were both grown men and sex was just sex, no emotions involved. Not to mentions they worked together. He should've known. This was a one time thing.

When Ryan went out of the shower, he found Mike sound asleep, curled on his side and clutching the pillow tightly in his sleep, frowning. He got dressed quietly, not wanting to wake the younger man up. Before he walked out of the room, he tucked him in, just like that first night, when Mike was drunk. He hovered over his sleeping form for a few moments and looked at Mike's youthful face. Ryan wanted to remove that frown, but he didn't know how. He felt guilty for giving in and sleeping with Mike because he knew nothing good would come out of it. He was afraid Mike would get hurt - physically or emotionally. Ryan was and always will be trouble. He left a feathery kiss on Mike's forehead and left without looking back.

5.

The first thing that Mike thought of when Roderick and his little gang kidnapped him was that Ryan would find him. He only had to be patient and not lose hope. He would make it out alive, he trusted Ryan with his life. It didn't matter that they were ignoring each other and were back to the start after that one night in the motel. Ryan was a professional and would find him, no doubt.

That's what he kept on repeating to himself, like a mantra, while he got beat up by a bunch of psychotic murderers. He was angry, furious even. He didn't deserve this. Mike tried to fight back, but he was weak and on his own against them.

His body hurt, he was scared. He was mentally screaming to himself to give in. They only wanted to know where Claire was, nothing more. And then the pain would stop. They would stop hurting him. Claire was no one to him personally. She meant a lot to Ryan, he knew that and he would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of her. He could tell them her location, but then Ryan would hate him. He would never forgive him for betraying him like that. It was stupid of him to even consider that option. And the rational part of him knew better - they would kill him nonetheless. Mike was just a pawn in their game. He didn't matter to them, why would they keep him alive? They would probably kill him just for the fun of it.

So he kept quiet, he protected his pride as best as he could, all the while praying for Ryan to find him.

Just when he thought,_ that's it, it's over_, he heard gunshots. He was lying on the cold floor, bleeding out and on the verge of unconsciousness. He smiled weakly because he knew that it was Ryan, he had found him. Mike couldn't fight the pain anymore, so he closed his eyes, relieved, and let go of the fear.

The last thing he felt before he blacked out was somebody's warm arms around his freezing body holding him close.

6.

Mike knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. Every hospital had this distinct smell that he couldn't ever mistake. It smelled of death concealed with the stink of bleach. He wanted to grimace because of it but his face hurt too much to do that. Slowly, he opened his eyes as much as he could. They felt swollen and raw. He looked to the right and then to the left where Ryan was sitting on a chair, asleep. He looked so uncomfortable; his neck would probably kill him when he woke up. Mike wondered how long Ryan has been sitting by his hospital bed.

"Ryan," he croaked. "Ryan," he tried again and this time it sounded a little bit better.

The older man reacted slowly, but when he realized Mike was awake he started in his chair and grabbed his cold, unmoving hand in his warm palm. He squeezed lightly.

"You're awake," he looked at him like he saw him for the first time and Mike felt his heart doing weird things in his chest.

"I didn't tell them," he felt the need to inform Ryan that he didn't betray him; he was on his side the entire time.

"Shh, I know, I know, but you need to rest now, Mike," Ryan was whispering and it felt so intimate, because of the vulnerable look in his eyes and all the raw, unhidden emotion in his voice. Mike's chest felt heavy. He closed his eyes once again; he knew he was safe as long as Ryan was watching over him.

"Don't leave," he murmured.

"I won't, I promise," Ryan answered just as quietly and leaned over Mike's beaten body to kiss his forehead. Then he settled in his chair, still holding on the younger man's hand.

Mike smiled, knowing everything was going to be okay before he relaxed and drifted off.


	2. when you wake me up

6.

Ryan was the person who went to pick up Mike when he was finally released from the hospital. He brought him clean clothes to wear, took the scattered newspapers and magazines from the nightstand next to his hospital bed and acted like Mike's personal babysitter. Ryan had made it his mission to go to Mike's place the previous days and feed his dog; he even spent some time playing with it. He didn't miss the chance to look around - it was tidy, but there were some books left on the table in front of the TV in the living room and stains of coffee mugs underneath them. The surfaces of Mike's furniture were covered with a thin layer of dust, which was evidence enough that there was no one around most of the time. He expected to see photos on the shelves, but was surprised and a little bit disappointed not to find any.

Ryan was patiently waiting for Mike by the car, talking to Parker on the phone and confirming that he wasn't at the station because he was not letting Weston check out of the hospital and go home on his own. He still felt guilty for what had happened to the younger man in the first place.

Mike was walking slowly towards the car, his face was still blue and purple, but the important part was that he was healing.

The ride in the car was silent. Mike was resting his head on the window, staring at the quickly changing scenery, until he straightened up and spoke.

"Why did you come pick me up, Ryan?" He finally looked at the older man, who was pretending to be looking really hard at the road, trying to buy some time, because he was honestly asking himself the same question.

Why was he picking Mike up? Why did he spend every single day in that hospital chair, next to his bed, holding his hand, constantly fearing that one day Mike would fall asleep and never wake up again? Why did he go feed his dog? There must be some nice old lady who lives next door, he could've just asked around and found somebody to take care of it. But no, he did all that. All the while, working on the most important case in his entire life.

"Because...well, because I wanted to, Mike, what kind of a question is that?" He pretended to sound annoyed, hoping that would stop Weston's questions.

"Thank you, Ryan," the older man hummed in return, nodding his head curtly, happy for the conversation to be over. Mike rested his head on the cold window again and closed his eyes.

7.

Ryan realized pretty quickly that Mike was tougher that he looked on the outside. He seemed to be taking the "accident" pretty well. He was healed on the outside and he was healing on the inside, too. Ryan was still worried about him most of the time, but he knew that Mike would either be okay, or become like Ryan himself one day – fighting with his own demons, broken and not letting himself be happy. He hoped the latter wouldn't be the case.

They went back to their habit of spending their nights hanging out. Mike was on a break from the case, though, he was supposed to take a week off and then start working again. So instead of going to the motel, Mike invited Ryan to his apartment one evening. Then it became a regular thing.

"I think I've grown too fond of your dog," Ryan said, while taking a swig of beer, scratching the dog behind the ears. Mike smiled and watched him out of the corner of his eye. The TV was murmuring something in the background, filling the comfortable silence between them with some kind of noise. Ryan could sense Mike tensing; he was probably biting his tongue, trying not to say something that was bothering him. Ryan waited, he didn't want to push him.

"So I was wondering..." Mike finally cleared his throat, pausing in the middle of the sentence and letting it hang in the air between them until he gathered the courage to continue. "Are you doing this," he gestured with his hand, pointing to himself and then Ryan, "because you feel obligated somehow?"

If Ryan said he wasn't expecting this question, he'd be lying. He knew why he was spending so much time with the younger man, but he wasn't ready to admit it yet. It wasn't just the guilt anymore. No, it was more about the fear he felt these first few days when Mike was unconscious. Ryan was always wondering whether he'd wake up or not. He wasn't sure exactly when he started caring so much about his annoyingly curious and bright-eyed partner. He just felt the need to take care of him; he wanted to see Mike safe, out of harm's way.

"No, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you're doing fine, that's all," Ryan shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant.

"Well, I can't say I don't appreciate the company," Mike went back to watching TV and drinking beer.

Ryan left the apartment some hours later, after extracting himself carefully from the soundly asleep man on his shoulder. He tucked him in, turned off the TV and the lights and went out.

8.

A month or so after Mike started going to work again Ryan went to the younger man's desk, where he was working on his computer, and casually sat on the chair next to him.

"I can't make it to your place tonight," he stated simply.

"Why?" Mike asked, still looking at the screen and typing something, his fingers working quickly on the keyboard.

"I promised Jenny I'd go visit her, check on her and catch up," Mike's response was a quick, "Oh, okay, that's cool, I hope she's doing fine."

"Would you like to come with me?" The invitation was out of Ryan's mouth before he could think about it. He surprised even himself. That finally stopped Mike from typing and staring at the screen; he faced Ryan with a confused look on his face.

"You sure you want the company?"

Ryan nodded. He wasn't certain what this meant. The only person he'd ever introduced to Jenny was Claire and he was in love with her. Now he was inviting Mike to meet his sister. Before he could over think this whole situation, Mike was answering with an excited _okay_. Ryan fought the smile that was trying to light up his face.

"Great. When we're finished there I'll drive you home."

With that Ryan stood up and went back to work.

9.

The dinner with Jenny was going well until Mike excused himself to the restroom. That was her cue to start asking questions: Are you dating? What happened to Claire? Is she okay? So aren't you in love with her anymore? When did this happen?

"Okay, Jenny, calm down! We're not dating, but I," he has never been so embarrassed in his life. He took a deep breath, looked around for any sign of Mike and kept on talking, "yes, I have to admit I have feelings for him, but I can't just…tell him. You know me. I am not good with voicing my emotions."

"Then show him! Look, Ryan, listen to me this time. What you had with Claire was doomed before it started. I know you had strong feelings for her and that's why you left, but don't do this again. Don't walk away from your happiness, just this once. You deserve it. And honestly, he's so cute, I am almost jealous," she grinned at him, finished with her little speech. Ryan snorted, but let her words sink in.

Mike came back a moment later and they went back to their nice dinner.

10.

"I hope Jenny didn't scare you off," Ryan joked. They were in the car, driving to Mike's place to drop him off and call it a night.

"Oh no, she's so nice. Thanks for tonight," Mike's smile was so sincere and his eyes shone so brightly, even in the darkness surrounding them.

Ryan parked in front of Mike's apartment building and turned off the ignition.

"Well, thanks again for the dinner and the ride. Goodnight, Ryan," Mike started opening the door, but Ryan caught his arm and stopped him. He used the moment of surprise to pull Mike closer to him and kiss him. At first Mike didn't respond, but then Ryan felt his hand moving to his face, then his neck. Mike kissed him back, uncertainly, like he wasn't sure if this was really happening, like Ryan would pull away anytime now and tell him this was all a joke. Ryan deepened the kiss to show him that he was sure, he wanted _this_, he wanted _Mike_ so much.

Mike broke the kiss and when Ryan opened his eyes he could see the stunned look on the younger man's face. His lips were still open in an 'o' shape, his eyes were wild with emotion and he was a little out of breath.

"What was that for?" He swallowed and in this moment, Ryan knew he should tell him, he should not let go of this chance.

"That was my way of telling you 'I'm sorry' for...before. I'm sorry I got so distant after that night in the hotel room. I was too scared that I was going to fuck this thing between us up too much so I pulled away. I thought it was for the best. I must have came off as an asshole," he cut off his rant, expecting for Mike to say something, anything. When he didn't get any response, he continued, "Do you think you could give me a chance to make this right this time?"

Mike was taken aback, his heart was beating fast and hard, he said _yes_ so quickly that Ryan almost didn't hear it and then launched himself at Ryan and kissed him again.

"Come upstairs," Mike murmured against Ryan's lips and after years of denying himself happiness, Ryan thought _screw it_ and whispered _yesyesye s_against Mike's lips.


End file.
